


Collection of Drabbles

by KoraKwidditch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Auror Hermione Granger, Auror Training, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Contracts, Mind Games, Oral Sex, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Fred Weasley, POV Hermione Granger, Past Angelina Johnson/Fred Weasley, Secret Crush, Sleep Deprivation, Soul Bond, Telepathy, Wizengamot, cheek kiss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23823811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoraKwidditch/pseuds/KoraKwidditch
Summary: Just a space for me to post any drabbles I come up with ❤️Tags will update as drabbles are posted
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Cormac McLaggen, Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Comments: 18
Kudos: 59





	1. Dramione Drabble

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble for Strictly Dramione FB group, FanArt Fridays
> 
> Artists deviantart used for the prompt can be found here 💕 littlechmura.deviantart.com

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/143851546@N04/49814809122/in/dateposted-public)

* * *

“It’s starting to fade.”

Hermione had his sleeve rolled up to the elbow, showing the ugly black Mark that starkly contrasted against his pale skin. Draco sucked in a sharp breath through his nose as she trailed her fingers gently over the skull. The black lines had faded considerably since Voldemort's defeat, though not enough time passed for it to disappear completely. 

Draco’s heart thudded in his ears at the witch before him. Hermione had his arm in her lap from where she sat on the desk, her back pressed against the bookshelves. He stood between her legs with his hand resting hotly against her thigh. 

He had kept his Mark hidden since the end of the War, and Hermione took him completely by surprise by interrupting their current snog session to look at it. 

“I just hate seeing it...” he whispered in the space between them. 

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes glistening and mouth set in a frown. Draco moved the hand that rested on her thigh to cup her face and trailed his thumb over the corner of her mouth. He hated when she looked at him like this—as if he was a fragile doll waiting to break. 

She opened her mouth to say something but Draco leant forward to capture her lips before she could. 

Hermione groaned as he swept his tongue against hers and placed his left hand on the small of her back to pull her flush against his body. Her arms snaked around his neck to bring his tall frame down to her level.

They had a perfect arrangement; they kissed and snogged in dark corners of the library and hidden alcoves, but they never spoke about anything important.

He wasn’t about to break their streak now.


	2. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Dramione Last Drabble Writer Standing Competition! 
> 
> If anyone is interested in voting for the next rounds, you can join the Facebook group found here https://www.facebook.com/groups/194846834916154/?ref=share

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/143851546@N04/49874274606/in/dateposted-public/)

She smelled like roses.

Not the overbearing, sick to your stomach scent, but sweet and gentle. Like a warm summer breeze in a field of flowers, caressing your face in a tender touch.

She smelled like home—like everything good that had been and ever could be in his life.

And Draco wanted more.

He wanted the bashful looks, full of unsaid feelings. He wanted her cheeks to stain pink, to stain the colour of forbidden secrets, for him.

He wanted her, all of her.

“Hermione.” He greeted as he sat across from her at the table in the secluded corner of the library. At least if he made a fool of himself no one would know but them.

Hermione arched an incredulous brow overtop the large tome in her hands. “Draco.”

She didn’t look at him, which he was glad for. Her piercing amber eyes would see right through to the anxiety-ridden mess his soul had turned into.

With a deep breath, Draco steeled himself. He had to do it. It was now or never and if he chose the latter, he would never summon the courage to confront her again.

“I want you to be mine, Hermione.”

Her honey-coloured orbs snapped up to his piercing grey with shock. The tome that had been supported by her hands thumped against the desk with an echo.

“What?”

Draco leant forward and gripped both of her now empty hands. The touch of her caramel skin sent a raging fire deep to his belly, and a jolt of electricity slid down his spine. Thinking she would keep her hands limp, he was surprised when Hermione gripped back.

“I love you, Hermione. I don’t know when it started or how, but seeing you in that courtyard... You were so fearless. Strong. Brave. Everything I admire about you.”

Draco’s heart began to race, and he could spy that blush he so longed for colour her cheeks.

“Be mine, Hermione. I know I don’t deserve you, but... I want to. I want to deserve you. I want to be good—for you. All for you.”

Their eyes never left each other and he could see her thoughts race beneath the curls hanging in her face. With a gentle tug, Hermione pulled her hands free and stood.

A lump formed in Draco’s throat. This was it, the moment she told him to never speak to her again. The moment his heart would break in two and never repair itself.

But to his surprise, Hermione rounded the desk to stand beside him and placed her palms on his shoulders. Without a moment to comprehend what was happening, she leant down and pressed her lips to his.

Eyes wide, it took Draco only a breadth of a second to realize she was kissing him.

That she accepted him.

Standing to wrap her in his arms, and return the passionate kiss, the familiar scent of roses engulfed him and only one feeling hummed through his veins.

He was home.


	3. To Help You Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione can’t sleep, Draco tries to help. 
> 
> Written for Round One of LDWS!

Hermione woke with a start, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Images from the War fluttered through her mind, and she snapped her eyes shut as she tried to calm herself.

The recurring nightmares were starting to take their toll; Hermione couldn’t remember the last time she slept for more than three hours. 

Sighing, she reached on the nightstand for her wand.  _The_ nightstand, not  _her_ nightstand. Because nothing was hers in this house. 

In Malfoy’s house. 

Even though they’d been married—or rather, forced to be married by the new law—for the better part of four months, she still couldn’t bring herself to call anything in this room hers. She was only glad they slept separately. 

Finally finding the familiar length of her vine-wood wand, Hermione cast a  _Tempus_ spell and the numbers,  _3:22_ flashed above the tip. With a groan, she chucked the wand back onto the nightstand before noticing something on the table that hadn’t been there before. 

  


A purple, ornate sachet sat on the edge, a folded piece of parchment resting atop it. With sleep long gone, curiosity won out and she picked up the note as she sat up. 

_To help you sleep.  
_

  


She instantly recognized the elegant scrawl as Malfoys and suspicion replaced curiosity. Grabbing her wand, she cast a diagnostic charm over the pouch to check for any dark magic. When nothing was revealed, Hermione set her wand down again and gently picked it up. 

  


The calming scent of lavender filled the room, and it instantly calmed her. 

How did Malfoy know she couldn’t sleep? 

  


With a glare aimed at her door, she stood from her bed without thinking and suddenly found herself knocking on his just across the hall. 

  


A moment later it cracked open, revealing the blonde wizard dressed in nothing but his black boxers. A blush spread from the base of her neck to the top of her head at the sight of the masculine figure before her, but the lingering scent of lavender reminded her why she was there. 

“What is this?” She asked as she held up the purple pouch. 

“I know you have nightmares, Granger. You’ve been forgetting to put up your usual Silencing Charms.” Malfoy replied as he crossed his arms and leant against the door frame. His muscles bulged from the movement and Hermione swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. 

“W-well I don’t need it.” 

“A simple thank you should suffice.” His signature smirk spread across his face and Hermione instantly bristled. 

  


He wanted a thank-you? Fine, she would give him a thank-you. 

Raising on her tip-toes, Hermione pressed a swift kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.” 

  


Without waiting for a response, she turned and all but ran back to her room. Shutting the door behind her, she leant against it and raised the lavender sachet to her nose. A small smile graced her lips as she inhaled the earthy scent.

Maybe this  _would_ finally help her get some sleep. 


	4. Secrets Come in Sixes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione’s been finding odd notes. 
> 
> Written for Round Two of LDWS! Fourth place winner.

Hermione received the first note pressed between the pages of her Advanced Potions textbook. 

_Secret One: I think about you more than I should._

She didn’t recognize the scribblings, nor had any inclination of who it could possibly be. Cormac would never stoop so low as to send her a secret note, and Ron was too busy with Lavender to even think of her. A multitude of wizards raced through her mind, but her guess was as good as any. 

The second note was placed neatly atop her breakfast plate three days later. Luckily, the Hall was mostly empty, save for a handful of students and the ever-glaring eye of Malfoy at the Slytherin table. 

_Secret Two: I’ve always loved your smile, even before you fixed it and thought no one would notice._

A blush stained her cheeks and she quickly crumbled the note in her hand as Harry and Ron sat beside her. Their conversation picked up to the day's activities and she let herself forget all about it. 

_Secret Three: I hold my breath every time you pass me because your scent is intoxicating._

Hermione glared at the offending scrap of parchment that somehow found its way into her copy of  _Hogwarts: A History._

She desperately wished to tell her friends of the notes she’d been receiving the past two weeks. But honestly, Ron wouldn’t care, and Harry had enough to deal with. Hermione thought briefly of confiding in Ginny but knew the redhead would launch a school-wide investigation. She certainly did  _not_ need the entire populace of Hogwarts to know she had a secret admirer. Malfoy would have an absolute field-day of taunts and jabs. 

There wasn’t another note for nearly a month. Hermione happily thought the person had given up until she received the fourth in the middle of the night. She was lying in bed, and the parchment materialized right above her, fluttering down to rest on her face. 

_Secret Four: The Amortentia potion smelled like your gardenia perfume._

So, whoever was sending these was in her Advanced Potions class? That narrowed it down to only a handful of wizards. A shocking thought crossed her mind of it being Malfoy before she snorted—as if. 

_Secret Five: Even though you’re not mine, I’m scared of losing you._

Hermione’s heart raced at the letter, her eyes as wide as saucers. She had spent all of Slughorn's class covertly inspecting everyone’s handwriting, and upon discovery of whose matched it, nearly had a panic attack. The familiar scribbles of this last note confirmed her suspicions from where she sat in the library. 

A small tap on her shoulder had her jolting in her chair and she turned to find Malfoy standing above her. A feline grin graced his lips and he offered her a final scrap of parchment. 

Hermione took it with shaking hands and a reddened face. 

_Secret Six: If you haven’t already guessed, though I’m sure you have you brilliant witch, I’m your secret admirer._  



	5. A Trial of Compassion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione testifies on Draco's behalf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for round 3 of LDWS.

“The Wizengamot calls Hermione Jean Granger to the stand.” 

  
Draco whirled from his seat in the centre of the courtroom, eyes searching for the bushy-haired witch. She stood off to his right with Potter and Weasley, looking everywhere but at him. 

  
“Thank you, Deputy Inquisitor.” She replied. “I have come today to testify on behalf of Draco Malfoy’s innocence.” Her demeanour was confident, but Draco could hear the waver in her voice, the only indication of her nerves. 

  
There was a short buzz of chatter amongst the Wizengamot at her words. Draco, and he was sure most of the people in the room, had expected her to testify _against_ him; to help send him to Azkaban, not save him from it. 

  
“And what do you bring as testament?” The Deputy asked, her face pinched.

  
“My memories,” Hermione said. Her eyes finally met Draco’s across the courtroom and a blush appeared over her cheeks. “Moments of compassion that saved the lives of myself and my friends.” 

  
Minister Kingsley inclined his head to the Deputy and she swished her wand to bring forward a Pensieve. Hermione gave her friends a fleeting glance before she stepped down from her place, meeting the Deputy and Kingsley in front of the shallow dish. Hermione raised her wand to her temple, pulling out the memories in a silver strand. 

  
Draco’s stomach lurched. 

  
He truly didn’t know what memories there could possibly be of him showing compassion. That word was foreign to him, only used to spit in people’s faces mockingly. 

  
And now it was the only thing keeping him from rotting in a jail cell. 

  
The trio in front of him leant forward, surged into the Pensieve. They stayed that way for so long, Draco thought his tapping fingers would leave indents in the arm of the chair. After what could have been hours, but was more likely less than thirty minutes, they pulled out from the reflective surface. Kingsley and the Deputy’s faces were both scrunched in confusion and Hermione’s was bright red. 

  
“Well... you can’t deny the evidence, Maribel,” Kingsley said, glancing to Draco. 

  
“Yes... Yes, you’re quite right. Thank you, Ms Granger.” 

  
Hermione turned and on her way back, reached out to grip Draco’s hand, still bound to the arms of his chair. With a searing touch, he felt something pressed to his palm and he clenched his fist around it as Kingsley and the Deputy returned to their spots. 

  
“Well, though this should be a vote, the Minister and I agree that the evidence is insurmountable of your innocence. Draco Lucius Malfoy, you are hereby found not guilty of all crimes. You are free to go.” With a flick of her wand, Draco’s hands were released from their magical bindings. 

  
What was chatter before, now exploded into shouts of rage. But the voices were muffled in Draco’s ears as he unfurled the letter Hermione had given him, the words making his heart pound. 

  
_For the compassion you once showed me._


	6. Saved With a Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regency AU: Lord Draco saves Hermione from Mr McLaggen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Round Four of LDWS

“Lady Hermione, would you care to dance?” 

  
Hermione took a deep breath to stop herself from shouting expletives. “No, Mr McLaggen.” 

  
“But you’re only standing here on the sidelines, surely you want to dance—” 

  
“Of course she does, don’t you, dear?” her mother answered, subtly pinching Hermione’s arm. 

  
She had begged her mother not to drag her to this idiotic ball, but of course, she insisted. At twenty, Hermione was already much too old to still be unmarried; she might as well be considered a spinster. 

  
And what a more perfect place to catch a husband than here.

  
Unable to argue with Lady Granger, Hermione was dragged onto the dance floor for the next quadrille. The music began and as they turned, Hermione was shocked to discover Lord Draco Malfoy, Earl of Pembroke, next to McLaggen. 

  
Heat crept up her cheeks as his piercing grey eyes met hers and she found herself unable to tear her gaze from him. The instruments muffled in her ears as they took hands, a jolt of electricity sliding down her spine. Though they had never been formally introduced, Hermione knew who he was all too well; the Malfoy family’s reputation was widely known. 

  
Their eyes never left each other for the entirety of the dance, and when it was over, McLaggen had to drag her from the floor. 

  
Once back with her mother, McLaggen began another trivial conversation. Hermione barely listened as her eyes roamed the ballroom for Lord Malfoy. 

  
Another quadrille began to play and when McLaggen asked for her hand again, Hermione’s heart sank. Her mother looked at her expectantly, as she was hoping for a match between them.

  
She quickly tried to think of an excuse, “I, uh—”

  
“Lady Hermione has already agreed to accompany me for the next dance,” a deep voice said behind her. 

  
Hermione’s heart fluttered in her chest and she turned to Lord Draco, gratefully taking his offered hand. They walked to the dance floor, and took their places amongst their peers. As the music started, the ballroom melted away and all that was left was the two of them as they danced. 

  
When their hands touched, her skin tingled and her heart sang. Her head turned to fog as he placed his hand on her waist to spin her. She didn’t even notice when the music stopped, and nearly collided with the couple next to them. 

  
“Lady Hermione, would you... Would it be quite forward of me to call upon you tomorrow?” Lord Draco asked, his eyes hopeful. 

  
“No, no it would not be forward at all. I’d like that very much.” Hermione replied, her voice sounding far off. 

  
Lord Draco bowed and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of her hand. A warm feeling settled in the pit of her stomach at the action as he left her with a bewildered Lady Granger. 

  
Maybe her mother had been right in saying that the best place to find a husband was at a ball. 


	7. The Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco makes a deal to save Hermione's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Round Five of LDWS
> 
> Warning: Depictions of Violence (non-graphic)

“My Lord, we have the girl.” 

  
Draco’s heart hammered in his chest as Yaxley and Dolohov dragged in a very skinny and dishevelled Hermione. Her wild curls looked like they hadn’t been brushed in weeks, and her sallow cheeks hinted towards malnourishment. 

  
“So, Hermione Granger...” Voldemort’s calm voice said with mild curiosity. “You are quite a difficult mudblood to catch.” 

  
Her honey-coloured eyes darted to Draco, and he tried to pour every ounce of love that he had for her into his icy-grey. Voldemort had searched for her for weeks, and Draco knew of the plans he had in store. He had to do something; he had to get Hermione out of this somehow. 

  
Dolohov yanked on Hermione’s curls, tossing her to the ground in front of Voldemort’s feet. She scrambled to her knees and stared defiantly into the snake-like slits of his eyes. 

  
“You can do whatever you want to me, but I will _never_ tell you where Harry is.”

  
Voldemort’s eerie chuckle filled the room, his smile cruel. “Oh, my dear. It’s sweet that you think you have a choice. Yaxley.” 

  
Before the Death Eater could drag her to the nearby chair, Draco was suddenly standing between them. With wide eyes, he tried to think of something to say to get them out of this, but no words formed. 

  
“Draco, what are you doing?” His father hissed from the corner of the room. 

  
“My, my, Draco. Have a little courage today, hm?” Voldemort fixed his glare to him, making a shiver run down his spine. “I assumed your father would have beaten that spirit out of you long ago. Another failing, Lucius.”

  
Draco’s father snapped to a low bow and muttered strings of apologies, though Voldemort paid no mind to them. 

  
“So, what is it we have here? You throw yourself in front of this disgusting mudblood to save her? And for what?” Voldemort’s gaze roamed between the two of them, Draco still trying to hide Hermione behind his shaking body. 

  
“Oh.” Voldemort began to cackle again, “Oh, I see. You _love_ her.” With a flick of his wand, Draco was bound and brought in front of him. “You’re just as pathetic as your father. However, I think a lesson can come from this. Yes...yes. Make a deal with me, Draco. Her life, for your memories, and I will forget this transgression.” 

  
Draco’s heart raced, and his voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “My... memories?” 

  
Voldemort sneered, “I swear not to kill her, but any memories you have with her must be erased. _Permanently._ ” 

  
Draco glanced down to Hermione; she mouthed “No,” to him, pleading with her eyes not to make the deal. 

  
But what choice did he have? He couldn’t let her die; she could win him all over again. 

  
Hiding that glimmer of hope, Draco turned back to Voldemort and nodded once. Voldemort lifted his wand, and Hermione’s echoing sobs were the last thing he heard before his mind went blank.


	8. Mrs Weasley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fremione. Fred helps Hermione wind down after a long work week.
> 
> Written for Weasley, Witches, & Writers' weekly drabble post.
> 
> Prompt:   
> “You’re the only one that gets to call me that, you know.”
> 
> *THIS DRABBLE IS RATED E*

“Hello, love.” Fred greeted Hermione as she stepped through the Floo. Her Ministry robes draped off one arm, and she shucked it onto a nearby chair before collapsing atop them. Fred chuckled and walked to her, bending over to place a kiss to her brow. “Long day?”  
  
Hermione hummed and pulled the pins from her hair, letting her wild curls drop around her face. “Just another lovely day of Wizengamot bullshite.”  
  
Fred bent down and pulled off her shoes, massaging the pads of her feet as he hummed and “ah-ha’d” at the right moments while Hermione vented about her day. He was quite used it at this point in their marriage; Hermione regularly came home with various complaints of the idiots at the Ministry. But Fred had worked out long ago the perfect way to distract her from her worries.  
  
“And of course that bloody fucking Malfoy—” She let out a low moan as Fred began to move his hands up her stocking-clad legs. “Oh, Fred, that feels nice... I’m sorry, what was I saying?”  
  
Fred grinned, “Something about that bloody fucking Malfoy.”  
  
Hermione blinked some of the haziness from her eyes as she racked her brain. “I don’t remember what I was going to say.” She let out a little laugh. “You’ve sufficiently distracted me.”  
  
Fred bent over and placed a kiss to her knee. “My distractions aren’t quite done just yet, Mrs Weasley.”  
  
Hermione smiled and leant forward to rake a hand through his hair. “You’re the only one that’s allowed to call me that, you know.”  
  
“Just like you’re the only one that’s allowed to call me Mr Granger.” Pulling himself to his knees, he captured her lips in a searing kiss that made both of them sigh. Fred pulled back much sooner than he would have liked to, but he promised his wife further distraction, and he never went back on a promise.  
  
Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gently guided her to resume leaning against the back of the chair. She gave him a curious look but didn’t argue as she allowed him to guide her. With a mischievous grin, Fred slid his hands under her pencil skirt and hiked it up to her hips. Doing so revealed she was wearing his favourite pair of underthings, and he groaned at the sight of the purple lace.  
  
“Hermione, how could you wear these to work? You know these are for me only.”  
  
“Well, I originally planned to come home and seduce you, but you seemed to have beat me to the punch.”  
  
Her voice sounded thick with want and Fred looked back up to find her face completely covered in a deep blush. Even after three years of marriage, speaking so openly about sex and seduction still made her flustered.  
  
“Oh? And just what were you planning to do with me, Mrs Weasley?” He hooked his thumbs in the top of the lace and slowly slid them down, revealing her perfectly trimmed sex. Fred grabbed her hips and scooted her closer to the edge, putting her perfectly on display.  
  
“I-I was going to sit you down and... oh fuck Fred.” Hermione gasped as he slid a finger gently over her clit.  
  
His grin widened when Hermione swore again. “And do what? Play a round of chess?”  
  
“Oh, shut up.” Hermione huffed irritably, though the words didn’t hold much bite. “I was going to suck your cock, alright?”  
  
Fred chuckled at his wife’s easily inflated temper before pressing a finger inside her dripping wet entrance. “Well, you seemed to have already been ready for me, love. Were you fantasizing about sucking me off while you were at work? Naughty thing.”  
  
Hermione’s moans bounced off the walls of their living room as he pressed another finger in, curling them slightly inside her. “N-No... of course not, I—” Her breath caught as Fred leant over to place his mouth over her clit. “Oh, bugger it all, yes. Yes, I did, alright?”  
  
Fred’s lips curled into a smirk, and he quickly set to work devouring his wife, pumping his fingers inside of her while sucking and licking her clit. The moans he earned from her lips had his own arousal pressing uncomfortably in his trousers, but he could take care of that later. Right now, the only thing he was concerned with was pleasuring her.  
  
“Fuck, Fred. Oh fuck, I’m gonna... Oh—” Hermione threaded her fingers through his hair, gripping a little too hard as she pressed his face firmer against her sex. She cried out as her orgasm racked through her body, and Fred felt her pulsate around his fingers as he worked her through the come-down.  
  
Hermione slumped against the chair after a moment, and Fred pulled his fingers free, grinning up at her from between her legs. “Satisfyingly distracted, Mrs Weasley?”  
  
Hermione gave him a lop-sided grin. “Yes, Mr Granger. I don’t even remember why I was mad in the first place.”


	9. Training Charlie Weasley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Auror Hermione is assigned to train Charlie on his new job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Weasley, Witches, & Writers' weekly drabble post.
> 
> Prompt: Person A has a crush on Person B, and Person B was just recently hired at Person A’s work.

“Harry, why is he here?” Hermione looked pleadingly at her friend.  
  
“He needed a job, so I gave him one.” He shrugged, “It’s not permanent, he’ll only be here while the sanctuary is being rebuilt. I didn’t think you’d be upset by it, considering how long you’ve liked—”  
  
Hermione surged forward and covered Harry’s mouth with her hand. “Shh! Don’t you ever say that out loud! He might hear you!”  
  
“Who might hear what?”  
  
Hermione’s heart jumped into her throat as she turned to find Charlie, arms crossed with a roguish grin spread on his face. She could feel warmth pool in her stomach at the sight of his broad shoulders and muscular forearms as they flexed from being crossed.  
  
Hermione racked her brain to try to think of something, anything, to say in response but her brain became so fuddled from the sight of Charlie. Thankfully, Harry seemed to be in his right mind.  
  
“Hermione was just commenting that she wanted to partner with you for a little, show you the ropes of being an Auror.”  
  
Or maybe he had gone crazy.  
  
Hermione turned to Harry with widened eyes and tried to convey that she didn’t want this. She could barely even think around Charlie, how could she possibly work with him too?  
  
Charlie’s grin spread wider, revealing the dimple on his left cheek that Hermione loved so much. “Great, thanks, Min. Should be fun.”  
————————————————————  
It had been hell.  
  
For the last two weeks, Hermione showed Charlie what she knew of being an Auror. For the last two weeks, she could barely function as she shared space with him.  
  
For the last two weeks, her feelings for Charlie only grew.  
  
“Hermione, are you staying late again?” Harry asked, poking his head into her office door.  
  
“Probably, I’ve got a mountain of paperwork I’m behind on thanks to you.”  
  
Harry chuckled, “Well, you’ll be happy to know he starts training with Ron tomorrow. So, you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”  
  
Hermione should have been happy, working with Charlie really had put her behind her work. But her heart still clenched to know she wouldn’t be directly working with him every day. And with him training with Ron in the field, she most likely wouldn’t see him for days on end.  
  
“Great. Thanks, Harry.” Even the words sounded forced to her.  
  
Harry took off with a small smile, leaving her alone with her mountain of paperwork.  
  
Not even an hour later, Hermione heard a crash from the lobby of the Auror department. Brandishing her wand, she carefully snuck out of her office to investigate.  
  
Charlie knelt on the ground, covered in ink from where he had apparently dropped an inkwell.  
  
“What happened?”  
  
Charlie jolted at her voice and looked up in surprise at Hermione. “I, uh... dropped the ink.”  
  
She tried to hide the smile behind her hand. “And why are you still here this late?”  
  
“Well... I needed to talk to you, but Harry said to wait until you were done. I just didn’t think it would take this long.” He let out a chuckle and stood with his ink-stained hands held out in front of him.  
  
Hermione felt her stomach flutter at his close proximity and wordlessly flicked her wand to clean his hands.  
  
“Oh? And what was it that you needed to discuss with me?”  
  
His dark brown eyes bore into hers as he stepped even closer, and his voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “I think you know, Hermione.”  
  
She swallowed thickly, her gaze flicking to his lips. Bending down, he captured her lips in a toe-curling kiss. Hermione let out a sigh and Charlie took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. As his tongue flicked against hers, Hermione reached out, snaking her arms around his neck as he did the same around her waist.  
  
They pulled apart, huffing for breath, and she swallowed thickly. “Think we could take this into my office?  
  
Charlie’s wide grin revealed that dimple again. “Oh, Miss Granger, I thought you’d never ask.”  
  
They disappeared behind her office door, laughing between kisses as they divested themselves of their clothes.  
  
Hermione already couldn’t wait to tell Harry just how late she had stayed at work.


	10. Perfect Idea of a Spouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Charlie are wed, per the new Marriage Law.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Weasley, Witches, & Writers' weekly drabble post.
> 
> Prompt: Marriage Law AU:
> 
> “You weren’t exactly my idea of a spouse.”
> 
> “Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual. But here we are, shackled together just like they want.”

“You aren’t exactly my idea of a spouse,” Charlie said as he fiddled with the ring on his finger.  
  
Hermione glared at the redhead. “Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual. But here we are, shackled just like they want.”  
  
They both stood awkwardly in the living room of the Burrow, Hermione dressed in a simple white sundress and Charlie in a dark blue button-down. His long hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and Hermione spied a dragon tooth earring dangling from his left ear that hadn’t been there during the ceremony. Interesting.  
  
“Kids! Er—well I guess you two aren’t children anymore, are you?” Arthur called from the kitchen. “We’re about to serve the cake.”  
  
Charlie tucked his hands into the front pocket of his dark brown trousers, trailing past Hermione without a backward glance. With a sigh, she followed, damning the Ministry to the deepest pits of hell.  
  
Two months prior, they had announced a new law, that any unwed singles were to be matched up and forced to marry. Hermione had tried her hardest to have the law overturned, but those bloody pureblood socialites on the Wizengamot denied any attempt she made.  
  
* It’s unfit for a woman of your age to be unmarried. We all need to do our part to expand the wizarding community.*  
  
They had spat those words in her face the last time she attempted an overture.  
  
She supposed she was lucky that at least she ended up with a Weasley, though why Charlie out of all of them Hermione would never understand. Why couldn’t it have been Fred? Or Percy? Merlin, at least she could laugh with Fred, and have intellectual discussions with Percy.  
  
Good Godric, she would have even taken *Ron* back as opposed to this.  
  
She barely even knew Charlie, for all her life, he had been the mysterious brother that lived in Romania, only catching glimpses of him here or there at holidays or random family events. But she never truly interacted with him, only watched him from afar.  
  
As she entered the kitchen, the loud bustle of the guests as they filed in had her stomach churning. She found Charlie standing off the side with Arthur and Molly, the latter still blubbering into a handkerchief, the large white ghastly cake placed atop a small round table. Reluctantly, she made her way over to them, saying a few passing hellos to their guests.  
  
“Oh, Hermione!” Molly sniffed. “The ceremony was just lovely, wasn’t it, Arthur? Why I was just saying to Charlie how fantastic it is that you’ve finally become a Weasley. We always hoped, of course—”  
  
“I’m keeping my last name.”  
  
Everyone except Charlie stared wide-eyed at her interruption.  
  
“You’re... not taking the Weasley name?” Molly asked, her blubbering paused.  
  
“No, I’ll be keeping Granger. I may hyphenate, but I haven’t quite decided yet. There’s still time until I need to change my name officially.”  
  
“Let’s cut the cake!” Arthur exclaimed loudly, clapping and rubbing his hands together. He had interrupted Molly—who had turned a bright shade of red and about to open her mouth—before she could say something.  
  
Grabbing the knife, Arthur handed it to Charlie, who in turn cut a small bit off the backside of the bottom layer of the 5-tier monstrosity. With a fork, he took a small chunk from the slice, presenting it in front of Hermione’s lips. Howls and hoots came from the on-lookers, and Hermione blushed as she wrapped her lips around the fork, doing the same for Charlie moments later.  
  
“Come on, smash the cake on each other!” She heard Fred yell from the crowd.  
  
Looking for the cheeky twin with a glare, Hermione startled when she felt a wet finger swipe down her face.  
  
Glancing back to Charlie, she was surprised to find a grin pulling his lips, and she reached up to brush where he had touched. Her hand was covered in icing, and the crowd laughed heartily at her stunned reaction.  
  
Oh, two could play at this game.  
  
Grabbing the piece of cake in one hand, Hermione jolted forward quickly and smashed it across Charlie’s cheek before he could move. He stood there, stunned, bits of vanilla sponge dropping from his face on to his pretty blue shirt.  
  
His eyes twinkled with something unfamiliar as he looked fully at Hermione, and a small scream left her lips when she was suddenly picked up and hoisted over one shoulder. She could feel Charlie’s muscles beneath the fabric as his grip around her waist tightened, and she scrambled to pull her skirt down, lest anyone see her knickers.  
  
“If everyone could excuse us for a moment,” Charlie called while he walked through the kitchen and out the backdoor, Hermione slung over his shoulder. “I’m going to dunk my pretty wife into the lake.”  
  
Hermione struggled against him, though the laughter escaping her lips impeded her ability to wiggle free. She watched in a strange mix of horror and humour as the guests slowly disappeared behind the trees while Charlie walked to the lake nearby.  
  
“Charlie put me down!” She finally managed to get out once they broke through to the clearing.  
  
The sound of wadding water filled her ears, and when she looked down to discover Charlie had walked just into the lake’s edge, she doubled her escape efforts. With a silent scream, she was sent hurling into the icy depths, and she broke the surface in a panic, sucking air through her lungs.  
  
Peals of deep laughter came from Charlie’s lips, and he wiped away tears from his eyes as he took in her soaked state.  
  
With a rage-filled cry, Hermione grabbed the front of Charlie’s shirt, catching him by surprise enough to be able to pull him down with her.  
  
They entangled in the water, and when they both broke the surface, Charlie planted a firm kiss to Hermione’s lips, a jolt going through her at the feel of it.   
  
“Maybe I was wrong. You might very well be my perfect idea of a spouse.”


	11. I don't like you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred tries to make Angelina jealous, though Cormac proves to be quite unhappy to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Weasley, Witches, & Writers' weekly drabble post.
> 
> Prompt: 
> 
> “Just so you know, I don't like you."
> 
> "I'm not paying you to like me. I'm paying you to laugh at my jokes and cling to me like a magnet so my ex doesn't think I miss them."

Fred walked down the halls of Hogwarts, Cormac reluctantly followed next to him. He didn't know how he managed to get mixed up with this git, but here he was, pretending to be in a relationship with him. All so Angelina would get jealous. 

"Shite, there she is," Fred said as they rounded the corner, spying his ex-girlfriend and Alicia in the courtyard. Fred quickly grabbed Cormac's hand and gave the blonde a forced, wide, toothy smile. 

Cormac grimaced. "Just so you know, I don't like you." 

"I'm not paying you to like me," Fred mumbled, the fake smile still plastered to his face. "I'm paying you to laugh at my jokes and cling to me like a magnet, so my ex doesn't think I miss her." 

"When my father restores my allowance, you can bet your arse I'm never speaking to you again you ginger—"

"Maybe you shouldn't be so rubbish at Quidditch, and he wouldn't have cut you off—"

"Weasley, I swear I will walk straight up to Angelina and tell her—" 

"Hold my hand," Fred said, cutting off their whispered squabbling. 

"What? I don't want to hold your disgusting, clammy hand— " 

Fred grabbed hold of Cormac's hand, yanking him to his side. The blonde glared at Fred, and he gave Cormac a genuine grin in return. The pair walked by Angelina and Alicia from where they sat on the stone bench, and they both looked up, spying Fred and Cormac. Twin scowls turned their lips downward, and Fred internally celebrated. 

Good, his plan was working. 

Head held high, Fred continued his path and dragged Cormac next to him, their finger entwined. It was odd how nice it felt to hold his hand and how well they fit together. 

Once they were out of sight of the courtyard, Cormac ripped his palm from Fred's grip. "Weasley, I'm done! I refuse to pretend to be your boyfriend just because I need the money—" 

"Fred!" 

Fred heard the distant call of his name, instantly recognising the voice as Angelina's. Shite, she was coming, and Cormac was still blathering on about how he refused to be his fake boyfriend anymore. She couldn't hear this or see them arguing, she would know for sure this was all a ploy to get her attention. But how could he shut the git up? 

Hearing the approaching footsteps on cobblestone, Fred panicked and did the only thing he could think of. 

He kissed Cormac. 

The blonde stiffened against his lips, but Fred didn't back down. After a few seconds, Cormac relaxed and kissed him back, his arms snaking around Fred's neck to pull him closer. Fred placed his hands on Cormac's hips, squeezing against the thick jumper he wore. A jolt went through him when Cormac's tongue trailed his bottom lip, and Fred sighed despite himself.

"Oh—" 

They both pulled from the kiss and looked to a stunned Angelina, her mouth hanging open and eyes wide. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't realise..."

Fred could see tears pricking the corners of her eyes just before she ran off. He and Cormac were still tangled together in their embrace, and Cormac roughly shoved at Fred's chest. It put some much-needed distance between them, though Fred was surprised to find himself slightly disappointed. 

"Don't you ever— You think you can just kiss me like that and—and, what... What the fuck, Weasley!?" Cormac stumbled out, his voice coming out in a hiss as he aimed a glare that could rival Hermione. 

"I had to shut you up somehow," Fred replied with a shrug and smirk. Cormac continued his glare, which only made Fred's smile broader. "I guess we can call this quits now. I think I've made my point."

Cormac's scowl faltered. "Well, hold on. How do you know? She only ran off crying she could've had... dust in her eyes or something." 

Fred looked down at the blonde with an arched eyebrow. "You still want to do this? Even after the kiss? You seemed pretty fubbed." 

"Well, just... I wasn't expecting it-it, and I need the money!" The glower was back, his pretty aqua eyes squinted to slits. 

Fred grinned again and slung an arm around Cormac's shoulders, leading them back on their path down the hall. "Alright then, let's think of what else we could do to make her jealous. Maybe a snog in the common room? Or how about you feed me dessert tonight after dinner?" 


	12. Who am I?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred's soulmate finally comes of age, and he's surprised by his match.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Weasley, Witches, & Writers' weekly drabble post.
> 
> Prompt:
> 
> When you come of age, you’re able to speak to your soulmate telepathically. Character A has just turned 17, and Character B says hello.

Fred frowned as he watched the minute hand of the grandfather clock move past midnight. Another night of unknowing, another night of frustration. He had turned seventeen months ago, and now with Christmas only a few weeks away, 1979 loomed ever closer. Was his soulmate a lot younger than him? 

Merlin, would he have to wait for _ years?  _

_ “Hello?”  _

And there it was, like a bright shining light in eyes. He could feel the bond, almost like he could reach out and touch it. 

Fred jolted in his chair from in front of the fire of Grimmauld Place. “ _ Hello. It’s about bloody time.”  _

_ “Been waiting long then? Figures I’d get someone older than me. You better hope you come from a good family, or my father will have my head.”  _

The voice was distinctly male, yet he couldn’t quite place it. It sounded familiar, and the apparent comment of a good family meant he had to be half-blood at least. Fred’s stomach dropped to discover he was saddled with someone pretentious. He supposed he would just have to break through their barriers. 

_ “Who do you think I am? I’ll give you three hints.” _

_ “Guessing? Really? What are we, five?”  _

Fred rolled his eyes but continued,  _ “I was well-known in school, but not for the reason you’d think.”  _

_ “Well-known? Well, can’t be Potter, he’s a year younger than me...”  _

Fred grinned to himself, settling further into his chair and closing his eyes to enjoy the sound of this wizards voice.  _ “I come from a pureblood family.”  _ He decided to leave out the bit that most of the elite of the wizarding world considered them blood traitors. 

_ “Well thank fuck for that. Pureblood, well-known, and older than me... Marcus Flint?”  _

Fred sputtered.  _ “You think this voice sounds like that shovel-faced bastard?” _

_ “I never agreed to this idiotic game! I never said I was good at this!”  _ The voice sounded angry now, a tremor to the tone that had Fred smirking. 

_ “Final hint; my favourite colour is blue.”  _

There was a long pause, and Fred sat up in his chair, worried he had angered his soulmate to the point of ignoring him.  _ “You there?” _

_ “WHAT KIND OF HINT IS THAT?!”  _ The voice bellowed, and Fred winced as it filled his head. 

Another long pause had Fred snickering into his arm. _ “Give up yet?” _

_ “How about you guess who  _ **_I_ ** _ am?” _

Fred chuckled at the obvious annoyance in the man’s tone. “Sure, I’m good at guessing games.” 

A scoff and then, “My hair is blonde, I’m a half-blood, a-and... I’m a Keeper in Quidditch.” 

Fred thought for a moment and sorted through all of the current blonde seventeen-year-old men he knew that currently played Keepers for Hogwarts. There was Graham Romsey on the Hufflepuff team, but he had black-hair. None of the Ravenclaw Keepers were blokes, so Fred could rule them out, which only left Slytherin and Gryffindor. Dread settled in his stomach to think it could be a Slytherin, especially now in the middle of this War, but then he remembered none of them were of age. 

With a jolt, Fred realised who his soulmate was.  _ “Cormac McLaggen?” _

_ “How the  _ **_fuck_ ** _ did you figure that out so quickly?!” _

Despite his hammering heart, Fred couldn’t help but let out a light laugh.  _ “Well, those were pretty obvious hints, McLaggen.” _

_ “This is fucking stupid! Just tell me who you are already so I can go to bed in peace.”  _

Fred grinned.  _ “One more hint and if you don’t get it, I’ll tell you, pinky promise.” _

There was a beat of silence, and Fred took that as confirmation.  _ “My hair is red.” _

Another beat of silence and then,  _ “Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. A Weasley?!” _

_ “Well done, see I knew you’d get it in the end. Just have to figure which one of us it is now.”  _ Fred chuckled at the angry growl that shot down the bond. 

_ “I don’t care which Weasley you are; I deny the bond or whatever the fuck this is! My father will have my hide if I shackle myself to a damn Weasley.”  _

_ “Oi, that’s my family you’re insulting.”  _

_ “I don’t care, Weasley,” _ Cormac said, voice dripping in disdain.  _ “Goodbye forever. I’m never responding to anything you say ever.”  _

Fred frowned into the fire. He didn’t think his family’s name would have that severe of a reaction.  _ “It’s Fred. I’m Fred.” _

The silence this time stretched into minutes, and when Cormac finally replied, Fred jumped as the silence broke. 

_ “At least you’re funny.”  _

Fred’s grin returned to his face, and his heart sped.  _ “One of us has to be.”  _

_ “Yes, just like I’m the fit one of this odd pairing. Now I’m going to bed to try and pretend that my life isn’t going to go to absolute shite.”  _

Even though the words were meant to hurt, Fred couldn’t help but laugh.  _ “Goodnight, try not to dream about me.” _

_ “If I do, they’ll be nightmares.” _

Fred chuckled and continued to stare into the fireplace as his mind went silent. He could feel the bond snap close nearly ten minutes later with what he assumed to be Cormac falling asleep. He never thought his soulmate would be someone like him, but really, what part of his life was ever normal anyways? 

Fred only hoped that he could see Cormac soon, perhaps that would change the man’s resistance to the famous Weasley charm. 

Maybe a visit to Hogsmeade was in order. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
